Note: Sorry it's been so long, guys. My writing style might have changed in my absence (hopefully for the better). But I fully intend to finish up/continue the stories I haven't updated really soon.

"Oh God" I couldn't help myself from muttering over and over and over again. Mostly I muttered to myself or to the nurses to came frequently in and out of the hospital room and shot me worried glances. I muttered to keep the silence from biting at me. From eating me alive.

The others came frequently to check on him but I was the only one who stayed day and night at the hospital. Insisting that I was his sister or his wife, depending on which nurse I was talking to. I knew I had no right to intrude like I was, no right to care so much, or to cry so desperately that my tears seemed to form permanent tracks down my cheeks. But I did.

"Could I have a word Miss Carson?" A professional voice with a hint of annoyance woke me from my depressed daze. A doctor was standing in the doorway beckoning to me, and his irritated manner made me wonder how long he'd been calling me.

"I have to be frank with you, Miss Carson. Dallas is going to need an operation as soon as possible to remove the bullet from his side. As far as Mr. Winston is concerned however, Dallas is no longer his son. I'm afraid that means this young man has no insurance…no money." The doctor was cleaning his glasses and is made me want to punch him in the face.

"I'll get the money." I practically spat the words in the doctors face, my heart falling as I fought not to scream my frustration. "Get him into to surgery, make him better- and I promise you that I'll pay you all the money you deserve" My voice was low and threatening as I pushed back my blonde hair.

I stormed out of the hospital, leaving the doctor blinking. I groaned as the sunlight hit me. When I walked by the place where Ace had held Ponyboy at gunpoint I took a deep breath and continued walking. That evil bastard was rotting in jail right now. Ponyboy and the dark haired one- Johnny- were safe. Or as safe as it got in this side of the neighborhood.

I knew full well that anyone living in greaser territory wouldn't be able to spare enough money to save Dally. They couldn't cough up a God damn penny when it came to saving the life of a battle hardened greaser…with a good heart. A greaser that..I had fallen in love with.

I pulled back my light hair and banged on the door of a huge house. The granite walkway screamed money, the wooden swing in the patio spoke of the days of love and relaxation I had never known. And when a woman came to the door she was wearing a light sweater and the kind of care free smile that said she had had an easy life.

I couldn't help comparing myself to my stepmother. I'd always been an angsty teenager, beautiful and dangerous, tough and independent. I was a part of my father's life that he didn't like to remember. And here stood my stepmother, warm and gracious, bright and loving with a ready smile even for a girl she barely knew existed.

"Dana" I said immediately my voice high pitched with urgency, "I need to talk to my father".
I watched my stepmother's eyes widen innocently and then concern etched her features, she was so easy to read. Nothing like the hidden feelings of the greasers, the art of seeing past the mask of toughness was lost on Dana.

"Is something the matter, Skye?" Dana had automatically opened the door to me, though she'd only met me a handful of times, "Your father is in the backyard".

"Mom I can't find the.." Juliet froze when she saw me. My half sister. The one who would inherit my father's money. I scared her and I enjoyed it as she quickly retreated from my dark eyeliner and intense gaze.

I pushed past my stepmother and her daughter as I rushed for the patio. My father sat on the porch watching the sunset. Fuck him for having time to enjoy the sunset.

"Please" I said my desperation making my voice overly load as I thought of Dally in the hospital bed pale and sick, "I need to borrow some money"

My father assessed my coolly, "Did you get yourself in trouble with drugs, Skye? After five years, you come to me to ask for money?" He was older now, he had more wrinkles, more gray hair but I hated him still.

"I'll pay you back every penny. But my…my friend is sick, and he needs money. Please!" I yelled, and to my horror felt myself almost collapse under my anger and frustration. My father was up before I could blink, holding on to my elbow to steady me.

"I'll help you" My father said from a very far away, "What's your friend's name?" I could barely see straight enough to notice that my father was leading me to Dana and Juliet inside the house.

"Dallas Winston" I said softly slowly biting my lip under I felt something besides the feeling that I was falling slowly, "I'm so sorry….Daddy…I'll pay you back, I swear".
My father had a funny look on his face I know now that he was trying not to cry, "It's alright then Skye. Go rest." I think maybe he was trying to take back all the years of not caring and neglect…all my rebelliousness and anger forgiven in my time of need.

When I woke up I was somehow clean and rested with my father asleep in the chair beside me, his hand was placed lightly over my own. I jerked up suddenly, waking him and making the motion sensor lights flash on.

"How long has it been?" I demanded, jumping up to find the world spinning.
"Half a day" My father was blinking at me, surprised, "But it's taken care of, Skye."
My breath caught in my chest and I wondered if I had my father pegged wrong after all these years apart.
"He'll….he'll be alright?" I could barely contain my excitement and my smile as I choked on something tight in my throat.
"Dallas, will be okay." My father was gazing at my over his glasses, "But I was told the story about…about Ace." I prepared myself for a sharp reprimand, a spanking, but not kind words. "I'm sorry, Skye."

I looked up and met my father's eyes, so blue…so like my own, "I was pregnant, Dad." The unspoken 'You weren't there' was loud. And I could see the hurt in my father's face, Dana's childlike display of every emotion seemed to be contagious. Anyhow, it made me feel worse. Damn.

"But thank you for your help, I appreciate it" I stood and squeezed my father's hand, he squeezed back.

"There's only one catch, Skye. You have to visit home at least three times a year" My father looked uncertain but firm as he spoke and stood to face me.
I nodded, at a loss for words and let myself out of the house.
Slowly, I made my way back to the hospital with a heart lighter than it had been in years.